Catharsis
by cnsprcythry
Summary: Max is not coping. She finally got her best friend back after five years apart, only to have to make the worst decision of her life. Now, drowning in guilt and grief, she struggles through every day. But what if Chloe didn't have to die? What if the storm isn't gone for good? Perhaps Max still has work to do...
1. Prologue

Max shattered into a thousand pieces as the gunshot reverberated around the bathroom. The tears she had been holding in since she found herself back in the bathroom finally escaped, flowing down her cheeks and splashing onto the cold tiles of the floor. No longer concerned with staying hidden, she pushed herself onto her knees and crawled out from behind the stall, going unnoticed by Nathan as he staggered around the room, muttering to himself with his head in his hands.

Reaching Chloe, Max pulled her body up by her shoulders and rolled her into her lap as she leant back against the wall. Then, with her arms wrapped around her best friend one last time, she finally collapsed into her grief. Sobs wracked her entire body as her senses deactivated one by one. She could hear nothing but the roaring in her ears. See nothing through the tears streaming from her eyes. Feel nothing but Chloe's body pressed against her. She didn't see David Madsen storm into the bathroom. She didn't hear him tackle Nathan to the ground and zip-tie his hands behind his back. Didn't feel his hand on her shoulder as he collapsed to the floor, finally taking in the sight of his step-daughter.

What felt like hours later, they were escorted from the bathroom by a pair of police officers, through a crowd of students and teachers. Statements were signed, after the whole devastating ordeal was retold again and again. The hardest was telling Joyce. No parent should have to outlive their child, and having already lost a husband meant that she took it even harder. As Chloe had gone further and further off the rails over the last five years, she had tried to prepare herself for a tragic outcome, knowing that it was a possibility for anyone who lived such a lifestyle. But no amount of preparation could ever have been enough. The once kind and motherly Joyce was now a broken woman.

Classes were cancelled, obviously, leaving Max with nothing to distract her from her grief. Her friends tried to help, and though she appreciated their efforts, there wasn't much they could do. The small comfort she did find came from Kate. The soft-spoken blonde was affected by brutal events of the bathroom almost as much as Max, finally receiving confirmation as the story unfolded over the following days that she had indeed been drugged at the Vortex Club party. She would sit on the grass outside the dormitories, with Max's head resting in her lap, and read aloud passages from the bible. And even though Max didn't share the girl's faith, she found her voice soothing and the words meaningful.

The other students of Blackwell all reacted differently to the events that took place that fateful Monday afternoon. The few who had known Chloe found their own ways to get through their grief, be it passing around a joint as the reminisced on the time they had spent with her, or blasting rambunctious punk tunes through the halls of the dormitories as they thrashed away the pain. Those who had been close with Nathan struggled to come to grips with the revelations about his true nature. Their guilt at not knowing just how damaged he was, and not being able to help him, equally matched their guilt over what he had done to others and how they had treated some of those others.

All the while, funeral preparations were made. Max tried to be involved, feeling like she needed to take some of the burden off of Joyce, but never being able to contribute more than a few words through the numbness that had taken over her soul. Instead, David took the lead, dedicating all of his time to the task in an attempt to deal with his own guilt and grief.

But Max would have no recollection of any of this. Her body was already on autopilot as she lay in bathroom with Chloe in her arms, her mind returning to the moment by the lighthouse that she had left, where the golden sun shining over a peaceful bay mocked her and her pain.

* * *

 **Welp, that was difficult to write. I'm not one for Authors Notes so these will be scarce, I just wanted to take the opportunity to thank you for reading. I know this was short, future chapters will be much much longer, this is just a way to set up how things are as this fic begins. Fair warning, things will be pretty dark for a while, but the fluff is coming, I promise. The whole point of writing this fic is for me to work through the traumatising ending of the game, so the happiness is definitely on it's way.**

 **Thanks again for reading. See you next time.**


	2. A Choir of Furies

_October 13_

 _I don't know if I can do this. It's been two days since the funeral. I spent all weekend at the lighthouse, just staring out over the water. Joyce is still a mess, and I feel bad for not being there for her, but I'm barely holding myself together. I don't really have anything to offer her. At least she has David._

 _I don't know why I'm writing in this. I can totally imagine some grief-counsellor telling me that keeping a journal will help me process things but I don't buy it. How is writing supposed to help me process the fact that I let my best friend die? I just fucking sat there and listened to her get shot! How is anyone supposed to process that?!_

 _Fuck processing. This is stupid. I can't bring myself to look at any of my previous entries, all those photos from that pointless fucking week sitting there taunting me. Even knowing that they're there, just a few scraps of paper hiding them from view, has my hands shaking._

 _Fuck keeping a journal._

 _Maybe I'll throw it off the cliff next time I'm at the lighthouse._

* * *

Max woke slowly, her eyes adjusting to the blinding sunlight streaming in through her window.

 _Fucking sun, I should really get better blinds._

She pulled the covers up over her head to block out the light, noting as she did so that she was still wearing her clothes from yesterday. It was Monday, and with no classes to go to she was in no hurry to get up. In fact, she was having trouble coming up with any reason at all to get up. She didn't even know what time it was.

Eventually, when she could look around her room without squinting from the light, she searched through her bed for her phone, finding it near her feet. Miraculously, it still had battery left despite playing music all night after Max had fallen asleep while still listening to it.

 _Lucky I didn't get strangled in the night by headphones. Or unlucky?_

She grimaced at that thought, mentally reprimanding herself for being so dark.

 _Stop it Max. That's not what Chloe would have wanted._

 _Chloe probably didn't want to get shot either though._

Feeling her eyes start to burn with tears, she quickly got up, scanning the room for something to distract her. It was not a pretty sight. Clothes were strewn across the floor, along with books and CD's, and a literal mountain of tissues towered towards the ceiling in the spot she could only assume her trash can was, buried somewhere in the white, soggy depths. Her eyes fell on the guitar, but she quickly moved on, not feeling even slightly in the mood to play it. Over by the wall Lisa drooped sadly, her leaves beginning to brown.

 _Oh look Max, you're letting another friend die. Great work!_

A loud grumble from her stomach draw her attention to the fact that she was starving. "I guess I _should_ eat something." she muttered to herself, realising she still hadn't checked the time.

 _Almost 4, wowsers. So I guess I'm looking for dinner not breakfast then. What a waste of a day._

She chuckled humourlessly. "And what would you have done all day if you had woken up, huh? Gone back to that damn lighthouse again?"

Slipping her phone into her pocket and grabbing her bag, she left her room, not bothering to find fresh clothes to put on. She saw no one in the halls, assuming that her classmates were out making the most of the sunshine before winter set in. Not having any idea where she was going, Max zombie-walked across the campus, eventually finding herself at the bus stop.

* * *

A short time later she stepped off the bus in the centre of town. After forcing herself to pick up a sandwich from one of the cafés she passed, Max made her way down to the beach as she ate, every mouthful tasting like ash. She trod barefoot across the sand, not thinking about anything in particular, just focussing on putting one foot in front of the other, and the feeling of the tiny grains between her toes.

After walking a while, she came to the parking lot at the bottom of the cliffs. The beach was clear, with no indication that it had ever been covered in beached whales, and the lot was empty of even Frank's RV. Initially she was disappointed, thinking that of everyone in Arcadia Bay, he was the only person who might come close to understanding how she felt. Then she remembered that in this timeline she had never met him. He wouldn't have a clue who she was, or of her connection with Chloe and Rachel.

 _Why am I here? I don't have a single good memory of this place._

She turned towards the sea and walked into the shallows, the water cold and sharp against her skin despite the abundance of sunshine. She watched the waves for a moment, as the late afternoon sun moved slowly but steadily towards the horizon.

 _The last time I was here was during the storm, the night that I left her, again. And before that, while we were still looking for Rachel's body, and Chloe almost killed Frank. The first time I was here she was in a wheelchair, crippled and dying._

"The golden hour." she whispered as she watched the sun sink lower in the sky. "A photographer's favourite time of day."

She reached into her bag and pulled out her camera, no longer broken from the fight with Nathan in the Blackwell parking lot that never happened.

 _Huh. I'd forgotten about that. Chloe never gave me her dads old camera._

She turned it in her hands, looking at it for the first time in what felt like forever, finding no evidence that it had ever been damaged.

 _This is the wrong camera. This one didn't take any of those photos. This lens has never even seen Chloe._

Her hands began to shake as she stared at it, the memories of everything this camera had missed flooding her mind.

 _Don't I get to keep anything of her? Why does it all have to fucking vanish?!_

She screamed, the sound echoing off the cliff walls and startling birds out of the nearby trees as she drew her arm back and pitched the camera into the water, glaring at it as it slowly sank beneath the waves.

 _I have nothing left of her. Nothing but those stupid photos, taken in a week that no longer exists._

Reaching into her bag again, she pulled out her journal, not daring to open it for fear of being confronted with the blue-haired punks smiling face. She gripped it tightly as she stared out over the water, wondering how such a small object could be full of so much pain.

"Chloe…" she whispered, drawing her arm back once again. But she hesitated, trapped between ridding herself of those painful memories, and losing her last remaining connection to the girl she loved.

And she did love her. She loved her, and she never even told her. Just two stolen kisses, after five years of silence. Not enough. A sob broke through her lips, and her shoulders hunched as she lowered her arm and walked back up the beach. Dropping down onto the sand, she opened the journal and delicately thumbed through the pages until she found the selfie Chloe had photobombed the morning after they broke into the Blackwell pool.

 _Why did I never contact her? Five years without a word. We were best fucking friends, what is wrong with me?!_

She was crying freely now, her tears cold against her cheeks in the winter chill. Her hands continued to shake as she flipped through the other photos from the week that never was.

 _So many opportunities, and I missed her so much. I wrote and deleted countless texts. We weren't even that far apart! It's not like I moved to another country, I was only one state over dammit!_

She closed the journal, still gripping it tightly with her shaking hands as she cast her mind back through five years of memories, looking for any hint as to why she never reached out to her best friend. As she probed whatever thoughts and feelings she could find from those years, a startling revelation materialised.

 _It… it felt like this. Like… grief. Why was I grieving? Nobody died, I just moved away. Chloe still existed, so why did I feel like she was gone forever?_

Her mind reeled as the truth came out, fresh pain piercing her heart. "Because I loved her…" she choked out through deep, shuddering breaths.

 _I loved her and I had to leave, we could never be together._

Max broke then, the journal tumbling into the sand as her head pitched forward into her hands. Her body seized and shook, as a strangled cry forced itself from her throat. She tipped sideways, her arms pulling her knees to her chest as she tried to make herself as small as possible. The sand was gritty and cold against her cheek but she didn't feel it, as she sobbed uncontrollably.

"I'm so sorry Chloe…" the words stuttering out as she struggled to breath. "I'm so sorry I'm so sorry I'm so sorry…" over and over again.

Finally, when she could cry no more, she uncurled her legs and rolled onto her back, battered and exhausted. Her eyes were red and blotchy, her face wet and covered in sand. She drew in deep ragged breaths, her chest tight and constricted, as if bound by heavy chains.

 _It's all my fault. If I'd just stayed in touch with her she wouldn't have gone so far off the deep end. She'd still be in school, she would never have borrowed money from Frank, she wouldn't have had to blackmail Nathan. She'd never have walked into that bathroom._

 _And I'd still have her._

Sadness bubbled up inside her again, but it was quickly replaced by something else. A new feeling began to swell within her chest.

 _But maybe it'd be Chloe's missing person posters all over town. Maybe she ends up in Jefferson's dark room instead of Rachel._

The new feeling grew, identifying itself as anger.

 _No matter what I do Chloe always dies. I save William; Chloe is crippled, her respiratory system slowly suffocating her. I save her in the bathroom; she gets shot in the junkyard._

She stood, her hands curling into fists now. Rage boiled inside her at the unfairness of the universe, the injustice of everything that had happened. She wanted to scream and shout and break things, her shoulders heaving with anger as she kicked at the sand.

 _IT'S NOT FAIR! WHY DID SHE HAVE TO DIE?! She didn't even know she was loved. She died bitter and alone and afraid, thinking no one cared. What did she do to deserve that?! YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM HER!_

Max had no idea who she was directing her fury at. It was beyond her control, as she raged through her mind.

 _You took her dad. You took Rachel. I abandoned her. Chloe didn't deserve that. Nobody deserves that much pain. And still you couldn't just let her live? Why doesn't she deserve to be happy? What did she ever do wrong that deserves such relentless punishment?_

She screamed again, her voice cracked and broken, her fingernails digging onto her hand as she clenched her fists even tighter.

"I can't be here. I need to go." She muttered, finally slowing her breathing. She bent down to pick up her journal, tucking it into her bag as she walked off the beach and into the parking lot. She wasn't ready to let go of those memories yet. They were all she had left of _her_ Chloe, the happy Chloe who finally had her friend back, not the broken and beaten Chloe, alone in a bathroom.

Max looked around, not sure where to go, only sure that she needed to get away from this beach of unhappy memories. The lighthouse drew her gaze, as it always did, but she turned away immediately.

 _No. Not again. I'm not going back there again. I just want to see the whole fucking thing drop into the ocean._

Instead she turned towards the trees, and set off up the hill through the quiet, gently swaying giants, not noticing the shimmering doe that watched her from the growing shadows.

* * *

Max walked for an hour, with no idea which direction she was heading in. The sun had dropped below the horizon now, the patches of sky she could see through the trees was a rapidly deepening blue, and the first stars were beginning to spark into existence.

The calmness of the forest had soothed her somewhat, after her meltdown on the beach, but she could still feel the anger inside her. "The world is a cruel and fucked up place."

She trudged on through the wilderness, her exhaustion going unnoticed, the simple act of moving acting like therapy. Eventually she stopped, and looking up, found herself face to face with a tall iron fence. Beyond it, scattered amongst the trees and lush green grass, she could see tombstones.

 _No._

She turned left, making her way downhill along the fence.

 _Not here. Anywhere but here. Why the fuck am I here?_

She came to the gate, the black archway towering above her and she passed under it without slowing. She was moving back uphill now, her legs pushing hard against the pull of gravity.

 _Stop Max, please. Just stop._

The trees were thinning now, becoming sparser along the sides of the path up the hill. Finally, she reached the clearing at the top, and there it was.

 _Chloe._

She moved slowly towards the grave, fighting against the inexplicable force that had drawn her here against her will. She dropped to her knees on the fresh grass in front of it, her fingers reaching out to trace across the words carved into the stone.

"Chloe."

Her eyes travelled up the newly carved block of marble, shining brightly in the growing moonlight. As they settled on the top of the stone she saw it, her anger springing to the surface once again. A blue butterfly, perched in the centre, it's wings drooping slowly up and down.

 _Fuck you._


	3. The Ghost in the Back of Your Head

A billion, billion stars glittered overhead, surrounded by a blue so dark it was almost black. It was perfectly silent, not even the slightest breeze rustling through the trees. Max could almost hear her heartbeat, thumping quietly in her chest.

She didn't know how long she had been lying there for, the new grass over Chloe's grave prickling against her back. The air was cold, but not uncomfortably so, and she was content to just lie there watching the stars. Her anger had dissipated now, leaving her somewhat numb as she gazed into the heavens. The butterfly was long since gone.

After a time, she rolled over, relishing the feel of the grass spiking against her cheek and running her fingers through it, as if she were dragging them through the blue locks of her fallen friend's hair.

It really was beautiful up here. If she stood, she could see clearly through the trees all the way down to the water, gently lapping at the shore of Arcadia Bay. Behind her, the hills surrounding the town stretched into the distance, nothing more than black shapes now, but in the daylight a deep and vibrant green, dusted with gold and auburn as the fall season took hold.

 _I think you'd like it up here Chloe. It's… peaceful. William would definitely like it._

She glanced up at the grave next to Chloe's, the stone less bright and new, but still well kept. The grass a little thicker, and a smattering of flowers around the base of the stone still holding out against the rapidly approaching winter.

 _At least you're finally back with him._

She sighed, sitting up and leaning her back against the cold marble of the headstone. Her hands once again pushing her fingers through the grass on either side of her hips.

 _Do you think the dead see everything that happens? Even the stuff I changed every time I rewound? I hope so Chloe. I hope he tells you what really happened last week, so that you know you were loved and cared for. I hope you can see me now, and how… how much this hurts…_

A sob escaped through her trembling lips, as tears returned to her eyes for what felt like the millionth time that day.

 _I just miss you so much Chlo. It's only been a week, how am I supposed to do this? How do people ever move on from shit like this?_

She sniffed, wiping her fingers under her eyes to clear away the tears as they fell, the smell of the grass invading her nostrils. She hoped she wasn't allergic.

"Ha, like my eyes could possibly get any redder or puffier than they already are anyway."

She knew she should head back to her dorm soon. She couldn't stay out here all night, and the temperature was still steadily dropping as the night took hold. But she couldn't pull herself away yet. There was so much she wanted to say.

 _I'm so fucking sorry Chloe. For everything. I'm sorry that I couldn't save you. Or Rachel. Or William. What is the point of being able to change time if I can't even save anyone? What's the point if you still have to die… alone and afraid in a FUCKING bathroom…_

She shuddered, anger and grief going to war inside her once again. She could feel the hysterics building but she pushed them down, repressing the urge to scream.

 _I'm sorry. I don't want to break down again. It's just so hard Chloe. Everything we went through and it was all for nothing. None of it even happened… I'm the only person that remembers any of it. And that just fucking SUCKS so much! I got to watch you transform, I saw your bitterness fading, your anger turning into hope. I watched the light come back into your eyes, and then I went and erased the whole fucking thing! What the actual fuck dude? What kind of fucked up monster makes people go through that?_

 _I still don't know where my powers came from, but to be honest I don't_ want _to know anymore. I don't think I could ever forgive whoever or whatever gave them to me._

Max sighed deeply, slouching further down against the stone against her back. Her eyes roamed through the trees of the forest, across the sparkling water of the ocean, and back up to the stars.

 _I just, wish I could have gone back further you know? To those years I was in Seattle so I could make myself text you, or call, or visit for the summer holidays or_ something _! Oh God why did I do that Chloe? Why did I let five fucking years pass without a word?_

And it wasn't like she hadn't thought about it. On every birthday, Christmas, anniversary, random day of the week, for all the years she was away, Max had typed out a message to Chloe and then deleted it. Then typed out another one, and deleted that too. She thought about her old friend frequently, wondering what she was up to, how school was going, if she'd made any knew friends.

On the rare occasions that Max did something social with the friends she'd made in Seattle she always came home wanting to tell Chloe about it. When she went to the football with her dad she wanted to show Chloe the photos she took, laugh with her about how much of a goober her dad was as he jumped up and down and clapped his hands with excitement every time his team scored.

Leaving Arcadia Bay had been hard for Max too. As socially awkward and introverted as she was now, she was the complete opposite before she left. Sure, she was never as outgoing as Chloe. She'd always been a bit 'chickenshit' as the blue-haired bull in a china shop put it, but she certainly earned her pirate card, rampaging through the town at her best friends' side, wreaking havoc wherever they could.

When she left, Max withdrew into herself. She didn't know how to make friends, Chloe had just always been there, and now she wasn't. As she settled in to life in a new city she formed bonds with a few people, but never grew too attached. Her demeanour changed too. Gone was the pirate scourge of the bay. In it's place was the quiet and timid little hipster, content to just watch the world through the lens of her camera.

Her parents saw all this of course, watching as the wild-child they once knew faded into memory. They tried to help, encouraging her to be more social, offering to throw her parties for her birthday, or bring her friends along whenever they went to a game or a movie. They even pushed her to reach out to Chloe occasionally, though they knew exchanging text messages could never be the same as roaming around the town together. After a while, they just let things be. Max seemed content enough, and perhaps her change in personality was just her growing up?

But Max was never truly content. She learned to live with her new circumstances, even began to enjoy the time she spent with her new friends. But she never stopped missing Chloe. And all the while, her guilt grew and grew. Every day that passed and every message she failed to send added to it, crushing her under the weight of her remorse.

"I left her." She thought every night as she cried herself to sleep, softly, so as not to wake her parents. She knew of course that leaving wasn't her fault. She had to leave, because her parents had to leave. But no one had forced her not to stay in touch with Chloe. She had no one to blame but herself for letting their friendship die.

Not that she hadn't tried. Sometimes, as a coping mechanism, she'd make herself angry with Chloe. Why did _she_ have to be the one to reach out? Chloe had never made any attempts to contact _her_ either, so why should Max feel so bad? Sure, she'd lost her dad, who she'd been incredibly close with, but plenty of people lost a parent and moved on. Some even lost both parents! But in the end, these little burst of outrage only added to her guilt. Max had no right to think those things about Chloe, she had no idea what the girl was going through. Because she never asked.

Max documented all of this. She had taken up journaling shortly after they'd arrived in Seattle. Funnily enough, it began as a way to share her experiences with Chloe. Her first ever entry started with "Dear Chloe…", and Max had planned to give it to her as a kind of extended letter once it was full. But slowly, it morphed, becoming just a way for Max to organise her thoughts. She still had all of her journals, tucked in a box under her bed back at the dormitory.

Max came out of her trance, five years of memories swirling around her brain, and realised she was shivering. The temperature had dropped significantly, and a cold wind was now fluttering through the leaves of the trees, biting through her clothes and into her skin.

She stood, rubbing her hands up and down her arms, trying to produce any amount of warmth.

 _I have to go now Chloe. Sorry about all the crying. I'll come back and visit again soon I hope._

"Though knowing me it won't be for another five years." she muttered to herself, winding her way down the hill back towards the beach.

As she trekked, she turned over all her thoughts and memories from the years she was away. Her guilt weighed more heavily on her now than it ever had. For years she'd examined it, tried to make sense of her reluctance to contact the girl she was once so close with, never finding a satisfactory answer. It was only today, or more accurately yesterday she realised as she checked the time on her phone, down by the beach that the truth had finally started to reveal itself.

 _I loved her. I probably always loved her, and I left before I got a chance to say anything. All of a sudden it was too late; what chance did we have when we lived in different states?_

"And once again, it's too late. Five years and you finally get a chance to tell her Max, and what do you do? You let her get shot instead. Great job."

 _God I really need to stop talking to myself. People are going to think I'm crazier than I actually am._

She had reached the beach now, passing the spot she had spent the afternoon, little slivers of anger and sadness pushing through her heart as she recalled the tears she had shed and the thoughts that had crashed around her mind as she sat in the sand.

Pushing on, she reached the town, realising her mistake too late. Before her stood the Two Whales diner, closed now, all the lights off except the neon sign above, glowing like a beacon. Even in the dark she could see the booth she had shared with Chloe through the window.

 _That's where I demonstrated my powers to her, where our adventure really began._

She felt her lip begin to tremble as memories, from both the non-existent week and her childhood, flooded into her brain. She quickly turned away and walked up the street and around the corner. It was far too late for the school bus anyway, and she didn't fancy hanging around until morning, so she would just have to walk back to the campus.

It would only take an hour or so, but the prospect of being alone with her thoughts for that long had her stomach twisting and turning. She felt fragile. Her emotions had taken her on one hell of a rollercoaster today, and she could still feel them bubbling under the surface, threatening to erupt at any moment.

She also felt empty. She noticed now that she had felt that way since leaving the cemetery. She had left Chloe behind again and it upset her. And the more she thought about it, the less she wanted to go back to her dorm. Desperate for sleep as she was, her movement ground to a halt and she stared blankly at the pavement.

There was no trace of Chloe in her dorm room. She'd never been there. Even the photos they had taken together during that missing week weren't there, they were tucked in her journal, in the bag slung across her shoulder.

The halls of the school building were full of Chloe. The missing person posters pasted all over the walls. Breaking into Principal Wells' office. The site of her death… but she could hardly spend the night there.

Even the gym had traces of Chloe; her graffiti on the walls and the sound of the two of them splashing in the pool as they rekindled their friendship after so many years apart. Also not an option for sleep.

The grounds and parking lot echoed with her voice. Chloe had been all over Blackwell, everywhere except Max's dorm room. Her room alone was empty. Completely Chloe-free.

Without realising it Max had begun to walk again, not towards the school but back into town. "I can't…" she muttered. "Can't be away from her!" She felt herself beginning to shake, breathing became difficult as she clutched her chest, tightness wrapping around her ribs like a vice. Though she'd never experienced one before, she recognised the symptoms of an anxiety attack.

Tears were forming in her eyes now, and she couldn't stop them. They made her vision hazy as she stumbled through the streets of the town.

 _I need you Chloe. Where are you? Can't be alone… can't be alone… need to be with you._

She was moving on autopilot, her feet taking her where she needed to go without any conscious input from her brain. Her thoughts where a whirlwind, spinning faster and faster and making her dizzy. She struggled to breath as her chest kept constricting, and her throat was raw from gasping for air. Her only coherent thought was that she needed to be near Chloe.

She rounded a corner and her destination came into view, the half-blue house standing tall and silent on the quiet street. The sight of Chloe's battered old truck parked in the drive caused her to stumble as she choked out a sob. "Keep it together Max… almost there…" She could feel her walls beginning to crumble as she staggered up the path to the front door.

Clutching at the doorframe to keep herself upright, the last remaining dregs of her strength shattered as she beat her fist on the door, tears pouring down her face as sob after sob crashed through her tiny, broken frame.

The door opened a few moments later and there she was; Joyce. Her eyes were red and tear-stained, her shoulders slouched. A box of tissues was clutched in one hand, the other rested on the door handle. A flicker of surprise flashed across her face as she took in the sight of the girl on the porch.

"Max?! It's the middle of the night, what on earth…? Are you okay?"

Max could only crash forwards, her arms clutching around the woman's neck to keep herself from falling to the floor. Her shoulders shook as she stuttered out the words between gasping breaths.

"Joyce… I'm sorry… Please can I stay here for a while? I just need to be close to her…"


	4. Future Rust, Future Dust

_October 27_

 _Okay. So I'm back. I haven't thrown this thing off a cliff yet, though I did nearly throw it in the ocean. But here I am, writing again. Not sure what or why, but who cares right? Not like anyone but me reads this thing._

 _Now that I mention it, not even I read this anymore._

 _Oh and weird coincidence; I just happen to be writing on a Sunday again! :O_

 _This is dumb._

 _So I've been staying at Chloe's place for two weeks now. Sleeping in her bed, going through her shit, you know? Totally normal, healthy, grieving stuff right?_

 _Joyce and David are around, but they've both gone back to work now. I dunno how they do it. I mean, I guess getting a sense of normalcy back is probably a good way to deal with things. Start moving on and stuff. But I wouldn't be able to do it. And I don't want to move on._

 _We've had a few conversations here and there, but they mostly just leave me to myself. Joyce and I did cry into each others arms for a couple of hours the night I arrived, but apart from that I've just been doing my own thing._

 _And by 'my own thing' I mean bouncing around between all the places Chloe and I used to hang. I know I'm not doing myself any favours, it doesn't take a shrink to tell me that dwelling on the past isn't going to make things any easier, or better. But I just… I can't be away from her. If I'm without her for too long I start to fall apart again._

 _And she IS there. In all the places I go to. Her voice echoes around the spots we used to play as kids. I can see her kicking the shitty jukebox at Two Whales. And don't even get me started on American Rust, she is all fucking over that place._

 _That's where I've been going the most actually. I sit there for hours, sometimes just sitting and thinking, sometimes going through all the stuff her and Rachel left there. I thought the police would have taken it all away as evidence but it's all still there._

 _I added my name back to the wall, since I erased the timeline where I first did it. I still kind of feel like I'm intruding, but it looked wrong without it. Plus I don't think Chloe or Rachel would mind. And the time I spend there is the closest we'll get to all three of us hanging out together. At least Jefferson's additions are gone._

 _Not really sure what's going on with him, not that I've been making an effort to keep track. Nathan spilled the beans pretty much immediately, so Jefferson was arrested pretty quick, but other than that I don't know, or care, what's happening. I do know that work on the Pan Estates has been delayed while Prescott Snr. deals with "unforseen personal circumstances". Motherfucker. I hope he ends up in jail too for funding the whole twisted operation._

 _None of that matters though. It won't bring Chloe back. Neither will moping around all her favourite spots but hey, fuck you. I don't need your judgement, future Max._

 _I'm sorry. I shouldn't lash out like that. I'm tired, and everything hurts._

 _There's one place I still haven't been yet on my 'tour de Chloe'. I'm not actually sure if it's still there, but I'm going to check it out tomorrow. I've been putting it off because I don't know if I'm going to be able to hold myself together but… well I guess I'll find out soon._

 _I think it's late enough that I'll be able to get to sleep now. Tune in next time on "Has Max thrown her journal off a cliff yet?"_

* * *

The sound of her phone rattling across the floorboards pulled Max from her slumber. She groggily rubbed her eyes against the sunlight creeping in from behind the flag as it fluttered in the breeze.

 _Everything smells like cigarettes. As always._

She sat up slowly, casting her eyes across the chaotic room, as she did every morning. It was messier than ever, with the contents of every storage space now littered across all the available surfaces, the aftermath of Max's exploration through everything Chloe.

 _Should clean up a bit. But I know Chloe wouldn't care, and Joyce can't even bring herself to come in here so it's not like it's going to bother her._

Desperate to know more about Chloe's life during the years that she'd been away, Max had been working her way through every photo, every scrap of paper, every CD and magazine she could find.

It was heartbreaking work, only adding more fuel the guilt-fire that burned inside her, but Max couldn't help herself. She needed to know every detail of what she'd done to her friend.

Evidence of Chloe's anger and feelings of abandonment were everywhere, even if they weren't explicitly stated. Her writing, her graffiti, her taste in music, her clothing; all of it spoke of loneliness and rage, bursting forth in fits of foul-mouthed rebellion.

Max treasured every new snapshot she found, throwing herself at every trace of her dead friend she could get her hands on. Not just for the illusion of Chloe's presence that each new artefact brought, but for the fresh punishment she could pile on top of her guilty conscience.

Max was being crushed under the ever increasing weight of her five years of silence, and she had no desire to be anywhere else. It was the only thing she could still feel.

Remembering what had woken her up, she stood from the bed, shaking the last dregs of sleep from her mind. Kicking aside items of clothing until she found her phone, several new messages filling the screen.

Warren: Max! Where are you?

Warren: No one's seen you for weeks, and Kate says you haven't been sleeping in your dorm :/

Warren: Please let us know you're okay

Kate: Max, I know you're struggling at the moment, and I totally understand that you probably need some space, especially from Blackwell, but please don't shut me out completely

Kate: At least let me know that you're safe

Warren: Btw classes start back up next week. Don't… you know… fuck up your scholarship or anything

 _Fuck, I forgot about classes. Guess it was too much to hope they'd be cancelled for the rest of the year._

 _I don't know if I'm ready for that. How am I supposed to concentrate on school after everything that's happened? It all feels so… pointless_

Max: I'm sorry Warren

Max: I just… needed to get away for a while

Max: Please tell Kate I'm okay

 _Way to go Max, here you are wallowing in guilt for ignoring your friend while you do it all over again to your new friends. Don't you fucking learn?_

Dropping her phone onto the bed, she began to search through the mess on the floor for something to wear, eventually finding a pair of jeans that didn't smell completely revolting. Not finding anything else she was happy with, she shuffled over to the corner and dug through the small pile of Chloe's clothes that lay there, eventually settling on one of her ratty shirts and a canvas jacket.

This was something she'd been doing on and off in the last two weeks, as her own clothes went unwashed for longer and longer. She got the same thrill out of it that she'd gotten from wearing Rachel's old clothes, and it made her feel closer to Chloe, helping to stave off the emptiness she felt every time she left a location that she associated with the tattooed rebel. If Joyce or David had noticed, neither of them had said anything.

Max sat on the edge of the bed as she pulled on her shoes, completing the outfit by cramming Chloe's beanie over her brown locks. She slipped her phone into her pocket, and slung her bag over her shoulder as she left the room.

It was still unfamiliarly light without the weight of her camera that she was so accustomed to. She had of course found William's old polaroid as she searched through Chloe's room, but she didn't feel comfortable taking it. She knew that both of them would want her to have it, but it had been a gift from Chloe in the first timeline, and would not feel the same if she just took it for herself.

Besides, she had no desire to take any photos anyway.

Arriving in the kitchen and finding it empty, she poured herself a bowl of Chloe's now very stale favourite cereal, grabbing milk from the fridge as she made her way to the table.

She never planned her days, preferring to just leave the house and see where her feet took her. Arcadia Bay was a small town, with everything clumped together fairly closely, but she'd still done more walking in the last few weeks than she had in years. Trekking through the forest that covered the hills around the bay was particularly tough, but Max found the physical exertion a welcome distraction from the misery that blanketed her heart, and the exhaustion she felt at the end of each day helped her to fall asleep.

Gazing around the room as she ate, her eyes caught on the wine stain near the window. It was the little details like this that kept drawing her back to this house, and all the other spots around town that she frequented each day. Little pockets of Chloe that numbed the pain a little, and made Max's continued existence slightly more bearable.

She stood and cleared away her dishes, not wanting to make Joyce's life any harder than it already was, her phone buzzing again as she headed out the front door.

Warren: Will do

Warren: But tbh I think she's struggling more than she lets on

Warren: She could really use a friend

 _Oh Kate… I'm sorry. I'll try to be a better friend to you, but how am I supposed to be supportive when I'm barely functioning myself?_

A frustrated sigh escaped between her lips as she walked quickly through the town, racing the emptiness that spread through her body as the house disappeared behind her. Her feet trod a familiar path, her eyes watching the sidewalk flow under her shoes as she walked without conscious direction.

 _One foot in front of the other. Just focus on walking Max._

Soon, the sidewalk disappeared, replaced by gravel and dust. Trees swelled up beside her, casting their long, dark shadows across the path as her shoes kicked stones out in front of her feet. Before she knew it, she was pushing through the gate into the junkyard.

 _I always seem to end up here._

Instead of heading straight to the hideout, as she usually did, Max took her time, exploring the mountains of broken things that towered up around her.

 _Maybe that's why I keep coming back here. I'm as broken as anything else in here, might as well spend my days rusting away in the forest._

Through the trees ahead of her she could see the train tracks glittering in the sunlight that beamed down over the trees.

 _Or maybe it's because this is where Chloe and I first started to rebuild our friendship, playing around with my powers and walking hand-in-hand down the tracks._

She meandered through the wreckage, pausing for a moment to consider clambering across her makeshift walkway and onto the boat again, before deciding against it. She didn't have the energy to dig the board out again anyway, and the empty beer bottle was no longer needed.

Coming to the small concrete room that Rachel and Chloe had made their own, Max briefly stuck her head through the doorway to check if anything had changed, before moving on. Everything was still in place, like a moment frozen in time. She half expected the two girls to appear at any second, laughing and chatting about something or other. But it remained quiet and still, nothing more than a mausoleum.

Her feet found the train tracks, and her arms extended at her sides as she balanced on the gleaming metal, her fingers tingling with the ghostly sensation of Chloe's own looping through them as they had walked hand-in-hand in this very spot almost exactly a week ago.

 _That was such an amazing moment. Everything just… fell into place again._

She walked slowly along as she reminisced, the hint of a smile almost forming on her lips. It was a treasured memory for Max. All the tension that had been hanging over the two of them had just evaporated, their friendship springing back to life as if they'd never been apart.

When she reached the place Chloe had gotten stuck, she hopped off the rails and scrambled up the slope to the small building she had raided for tools. Setting herself up in the shade against one of the walls, Max pulled out her journal and began to write.

 _October 28_

 _Here I am again, back sooner than I expected. I ended up at American Rust again this morning, so to mix things up I walked down the train tracks again and it got me thinking about Chloe and me reconnecting last week._

 _I'm not sure why I'm writing this all down, but it just feels important to record for some reason. Maybe it'll be something I can look at when things get real bad, you know? A happy memory that I can sink into. Or maybe it'll just make me feel even worse, another reminder of what could have been if we'd stayed in touch._ _At the moment it's that second one, but I still feel the need to write this all down._

 _It was just so amazing, after all the craziness with Frank, and the day before with Nathan and David. To be walking along the railway with my best friend holding my hand again after 5 years without each other. I couldn't believe it. It felt like I'd never left, it was just Captain Chloe the fearsome pirate and her faithful first mate, Mad Max!_

 _If I could freeze any moment of time forever, it would be that one. It's funny, later on that very same day I did just that when I stopped Kate from jumping off the Blackwell roof. Obviously I don't regret that in the slightest, but if I could go back now to the moment when Chloe reached for my hand as we walked down the tracks and freeze it forever, I would._

The page was now splotchy from the tears she'd begun to shed, so she closed up her journal and packed it away, retracing her steps back through the junkyard and towards the town.

She next found herself approaching the Two Whales, despite not being remotely hungry. But she was tired from her walking, and the diner held more memories and traces of Chloe, so she accepted it as her destination without question.

Joyce smiled at her but didn't say anything as she entered, and she forced a polite smile onto her own face as she took a seat in her usual booth.

"Here you are sweetie." her kind southern accent washing over Max as she placed a menu in front of her before bustling off on a coffee round. Max would not be ordering anything, as she often didn't, and Joyce never questioned it, leaving Max alone to sit and ponder.

She always sat in this booth, finding it miraculously free whenever she ventured into the diner. Perhaps Joyce encouraged the other patrons to keep clear of it in case Max came in, perhaps it was just the universe trying to cut her some slack after all the bullshit it had put her through recently. Whatever it was, this was Max's booth, and it was always available to her.

It was in this booth that Max had first demonstrated her powers to Chloe, accurately guessing the items in her pocket, and predicting what would happen next as Joyce made her way through the diner.

 _I'm still amazed that Chloe believed me so easily, though I suppose being able to tell her what was in her pockets, right down to the specific time on her parking ticket would be pretty unexplainable. And predicting all the little things that happened around Joyce would definitely be pretty convincing._

She sighed a little, slouching down a little lower into the booth seat as the weight of the memory settled on her shoulders.

 _It must be so weird to see me using my powers from the outside. I always get to see things play out one way, and then play out backwards while I rewind._

Her mouth stretched into a humourless smirk as she tried to imagine what it would look to Chloe.

 _The photojumps must be even weirder for her. One second we're about to head into the party and look for Nathan, and the next I'm telling her Jefferson shot her and kidnapped me and I had to travel through time multiple… er, times… to escape._

Max leant forwards, resting her head on her hands as exhaustion spread through her body.

 _Man, I could have had so much fun pranking her with my powers. Let her say something and then rewind and say it at the same time as her. It would have been the ultimate game of copy-cat._

Nostalgia was taking over, as she thought back to all the pranks they used to play on each other growing up, and Max welcomed the feeling as a pleasant change from the misery or emptiness that usually filled her.

Joyce stopped by the booth on her way back to the kitchen, gently stroking a hand across Max's shoulders for a few seconds before continuing on without a word. Max was content to just rest for a while, as inside her head she and Chloe as children wreaked havoc on the patrons of the diner.

* * *

Sweat glistened on her skin despite the coldness of the air, as Max clambered uphill through the trees of the forest that surrounded Arcadia Bay. It was mid-afternoon now, and the sky was cloudless and blue beyond the treetops.

For once she was walking with purpose, making her way to the only destination she'd consciously decided on, not counting Chloe's house at the end of each day's wanderings. The place she'd been avoiding for two weeks now. The path was rough but clear, winding its way upwards in a leisurely fashion, and before long she had arrived.

Max and Chloe's childhood treehouse. Their secret pirate fort, where they planned their mischief and hid from their parents.

She stopped a few metres away from the tree, examining the structures integrity, before deciding it seemed safe enough to climb. It had been here for years, untouched, but the boards still looked sturdy, and the rope ladder descending from the thick branch above her held her weight as she cautiously placed a foot on the first rung.

 _Damn William, you sure knew what you were doing when you built this thing for us._

Reaching the top of the ladder, she crawled in slowly, tensed and ready to react at the slightest groan or creak of the old wood beneath her feet. But everything was silent, nothing shifted in the slightest, and she eventually settled herself down in the middle of the floor.

It was only a small treehouse, just a couple of metres squared, and with no roof. A doorway was cut into one of the walls, allowing access to the branch that the ladder was suspended from.

The girls had demanded something far grander, insisting that the notorious pirate queens that they were deserved a far more elaborate dwelling, but William could not be budged. As their fort was being built on public property, inside of a national park no less, he refused to build them anything but the most basic of buildings, lest he be required to dismantle it one day.

But no trouble had ever come of it, and Max doubted anyone else had ever even come across it, so here it stood.

Convinced for the moment at least that the fort was not going to collapse with her in it, she allowed herself to relax. Sort of. Her body un-tensed as her fear of falling faded away, and was replaced by the black depression that she knew coming here would bring. This place, above all others, was full of Chloe.

Their initials were carved into almost every plank, as well as some of the branches. If she squinted she could almost see the pirate flag they'd hung from the tree blowing in the wind. When she closed her eyes she could hear Chloe's voice, loudly proclaiming their latest victory against the poor defenceless people of Arcadia Bay.

It was here that they'd planned their future, promising each other that they'd take over the world together. In the warm summer months, they would camp here overnight, relying on William and Ryan to convince their mothers that they would be safe on their own out in the wilderness. And it was in this treehouse that Max had fallen in love, without even realising it.

Before she could stop herself, she was crying, tears cascading down her face as the fort shimmered out of visibility. She held her head in her hands as she finally allowed that memory, that one terrible memory, to wash over her for the first time in years.

 _"I'm sorry Max. I know I haven't been much fun lately."_

 _They were lying diagonally across the floor of the treehouse, their heads together in the middle while their legs extended in opposite directions, staring up into the canopy of the tree above them._

 _"You don't have anything to be sorry for Chloe. Don't even say that!"_

 _"I know… I know. It's just, you've been so quiet lately, and I was worried it was because we're not joking around and pranking people like we used to. I know I just kinda… float around these days."_

 _Max's insides squirmed with guilt, knowing that her secret was about to come out. "Chloe that's not it at all, I promise. I mean come on dude, the funeral was only a month ago, I don't expect you to just… be like you were before…_ it _happened."_

 _"Yeah, I know. But I wish I could be. I just… I miss him Max. I miss him so much." she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion._

 _"Me too Chloe. Me too…" Max replied, wetness forming in the corners of her own eyes as she spoke._

 _"But there_ is _a reason you've been quiet lately, isn't there? Don't think I didn't pick up on that Max. You said it's not because I've been boring, but I can tell there's a reason. And it's not just because you're sad about my dad."_

 _She had turned her head to face Max now, and the smaller girl could feel her eyes burning holes into the side of her face. But she didn't have the strength meet her gaze._

 _"I… I need to tell you something Chloe." Her voice was quiet, barely audible above the rustling of the leaves above them._

 _"What is it? Have you been keeping a secret from me Max? We promised we'd never to that to each other!"_

 _"I know but… I just didn't know how to tell you…"_

 _"Just say it Max. You're my best friend, you know you can tell me anything right? Come on, just spit it out!" She wasn't angry, but nor was she cheerful, and her eyes were still burning against Max's skin._

 _"I… I'm leaving, Chloe."_

 _There was silence. Max was screaming inside, fear ripping through her body._

 _"What do you mean you're leaving? Leaving what?" Chloe was confused, trying to process the words Max had spoken._

 _"Dad got a job in Seattle. We leave next week. I tried to convince him not to take it! I begged them to let me live here with you and Joyce, I swear Chloe!" her voice laced with panic, desperate for her friend to know that this wasn't her choice._

 _"You… what?... No! You can't leave!" One hand smacked Max on the shoulder as she propped herself up on the other one, the brunette finally turning to meet the gaze of the blonde._

 _"My dad is DEAD, Max! I need you! How can you leave me?" Hurt was turning to anger now, pitching her voice higher than usual._

 _"I don't want to leave! Chloe I swear! I screamed at them until my voice disappeared! I threatened to run away! But they wouldn't listen… they just wouldn't listen…" She was crying in full now, shudders racing up and down her body as Chloe sat up._

 _"What happened to friends forever? We're supposed to take over the world together! And now you're LEAVING? What is wrong with you?!"_

 _"Chloe! It's not my fault! Please believe me, please… I don't want to leave you!"_

 _"But you are, Max… You_ are _leaving me…"_

 _"And I hate them! I hate them for dragging me away from you! But… but it's only Seattle! It's just the next state over, I'll be able to visit in the holidays. And you can come up to visit me! We'll have a whole new city to take over Chloe! Please… you have to believe me… I don't want this either, I swear."_

 _"Just… go…" Her voice was quiet, emotionless. Her body was broken, her eyes now cast down at the floor instead of her friend._

 _"Chloe… you have to believe me. I don't want to leave you! I… I…" She tried to say the words that she didn't even know she wanted to say._

 _"JUST GO! GET OUT! Leave if that's what you're going to do, I CAN'T STOP YOU!"_

 _"Chloe…"_

 _But the girl would not speak, or look up. She just curled her legs into her chest, wrapped her arms around her knees, and silently wept. Max watched her for a moment more before backing herself through the doorway and onto the ladder._

 _She paused at the top, then slowly descended. She paused again at the bottom, staring up at the fort while she waited with baited breathed for Chloe to call out to her, but she never did. Turning her back on her best friend, she began to stumble, blinded by the tears flowing from from her eyes, through the forest and back to her home._

The next time she saw Chloe would be the day that she left for Seattle with her parents. They'd driven over to say goodbye to Joyce, all three of them trying to get the girls to say a proper farewell. Max had stared silently at Chloe the entire time, but she would do nothing but stand there, looking down at her feet and not saying a word while she waited for her mother to give her permission to go back inside.

Max's sobs had faded now, and her tears were drying on her cheeks as the memory of the treehouse faded from her mind.

 _I used to think that would forever be the worst day of my life, the day I told her I was leaving. But then I had to listen to her die._

She was ready to leave now, having got what she came for: a fresh mountain of guilt to pile onto the growing weight she carried on her shoulders. But before she climbed back down the ladder, she pulled out her journal and recorded the experience.

 _For posterity._

* * *

The sun was setting over the water, painting a stunning picture for Max to look at as she sat against Chloe's grave.

She was utterly exhausted, both physically from hiking through the woods again, and mentally from everything she'd experienced since she awoke.

She was worried, too. The emptiness that spread through her whenever she wasn't in a Chloe place came on quicker now, and she wasn't sure what she'd do once classes started and she was no longer free to go where she pleased, whenever she please. There was also the possibility that it might even begin to show itself while she _was_ in one of her Chloe places, and that worried her even more.

"I don't know what to do Chlo. It's getting harder, not easier. How much time needs to pass before things start getting better?"

She watched as the sun slowly dipped below the water, the sky darkening steadily above her.

"I don't know how much longer I can keep this up."

She ran her fingers through the grass, as she breathed in deeply, before standing up and turning to look down at the headstone.

"I wish you could talk back to me Chloe. I'd give anything to hear you voice again."

She turned, and slowly headed down the hill towards town, bracing herself for the cold, empty feeling she knew was coming.

 **Okay, shit got real fuckin' angsty, and it's probably only going to get worse so I felt like I should say something. Like I promised before, the fluff is coming, I swear. Just bear with me. If everything goes according to (my very rough) plan, there's about 2-3 chapters of misery left and then things start to pick up. Please please please stick around because I do think the payoff will be worth it. Maybe. I hope. I can't make any guarantees of course because… well… I'm not really a writer, but I'm reasonably confident in my ability to pull this emotional rollercoaster off. Thank you for reading!**

 **PS: Updates my be a little slower moving forward. To be honest, I'm finding these chapters hard to write, and I have to keep taking breaks to jump ahead and work on fluffy chapters so I don't get into a funk. But on the plus side, once they're done I'll already have a tonne of work done on the fluffy!**

 **PPS: This story is now also available over at AO3. I'll continue to post new chapters at both locations, but I'm loving the simplicity and ease of use over there a whole lot.**


	5. You're Somewhere, I Could Go There

_November 5_

 _I AM SO FUCKING ANGRY I WANT TO SCREAM!_

 _I was just lying around in Chloe's room when I heard David shout, so I went downstairs to investigate. He was watching the news with Joyce, and they'd just announced that the police have confirmed that they won't be charging Sean Prescott with ANYTHING!_

 _Nothing! Not accessory to murder. Not corruption. Not for funding that fucked up torture room. Not even for the years of emotional abuse he subjected his own son to! It's such fucking BULLSHIT!_

 _I've never seen David so angry. Even Joyce was steaming from the ears at the complete injustice of it all. It doesn't matter that Nathan and Jefferson are both looking at the death penalty, Sean fucking Prescott is just as guilty!_

 _Even his daughter is outraged. She's flying back from South America for Nathan's trial, and she made a statement to the media. I can't remember it exactly but something along the lines of "My father is a fucking scumbag who only cares about money and bullies his children and I will fight this until my last breath."_

 _FUCK this, I'm going to go find something to break._

* * *

The sudden commotion of students packing up their books jolted Max into consciousness, and out of the staring contest she had been having with her desk. She hadn't heard a single word her teacher had said. She wasn't even sure which class she was in.

Grabbing her bag off the floor and collecting her things into it, she discovered that it was algebra, her second class of the day. That meant she'd had world history before this. She didn't remember that either.

She weaved her way through the desks, arranged in a neat grid facing the front wall of the room, and towards the door where the mob of students had bottlenecked in their haste to escape.

As she passed the teachers desk he called out to her. "Max, hold up a minute would you?"

She paused, turning to face him. "Sure, Mr. Lander."

He was an older man, his hair dark grey and flecked with white. His beard was the same, neatly trimmed and covering his whole jaw. The glasses he wore very nearly completed the stereotypical math teacher look, but he sported a surprisingly 'hip' haircut, with the sides cut short and the top slicked back.

His green eyes were fixed on Max, and she watched her hands fidgeting by her waist to avoid his gaze.

"Max I just wanted to ask; how are you?" His voice was deep, but kind.

"I'm fine Mr. Lander, how are you?"

Surprise etched itself across his face for a moment, before her recovered. "Uh, I'm just fine Max, thank you." He was silent for a moment before continuing.

"But I think we both know that you're not fine, are you? I know you didn't hear anything that I said all class, and Ms. Grant tells me you were the same in her science class yesterday."

"I'm sorry Mr. Lander, I've just been having a little trouble concentrating lately. I promise it won't happen again. I'm totally fine though, really."

He sighed gently as he watched her fidget, Max still not meeting his gaze. "Listen Max, I'm not going to push, that's not my place, but there are plenty of people here for you to talk to if you need to. Everyone is struggling with the recent events at Blackwell, no one would blame you for needing a little help. Especially with your personal connection to the late Ms. Price."

Max twitched involuntarily at the mention of Chloe, and she gripped her fingers tighter, finally looking up to meet her teacher's eyes, finding them full of warmth and concern.

"At the very least try and get your concentration issues under control. I'd hate for you to fail the midterms coming up in a few weeks." he said, smiling gently.

"I will, I promise. And… thank you."

He smiled warmly at her, before turning back to his desk as she left the classroom. Emerging into the hallway, Max crossed it and followed the rest of her classmates into the cafeteria. She moved silently through the room and joined the queue of students waiting for their lunch.

Once she had her food, she found an empty table along the back of the room where she sat and picked at it for a while. Her appetite was almost non-existent these days, but she forced herself to eat at least a little each day.

It had been two days since classes had started up again, and Max was struggling. Not only did they seem exactly as pointless as she'd feared they would, but not being able to go to her Chloe places meant she had no escape from the emptiness that had been growing inside her over the last few weeks.

She had only made it through the first day because classes had finished early. With no replacement photography teacher yet, her final period on Monday had been cancelled, and Max had used the time to walk back down to the beach in an attempt to try and feel something. But even that had done little to bring her back to life.

Max was just not feeling very much of anything at the moment.

As she pushed her food around the tray, she was joined suddenly by the last person she expected to be approached by.

Hello Max," said Victoria, as she took a seat opposite the sullen brunette. "I know we aren't on great terms, and I'm not really sure what I'm doing, I'm just making this up as I go along, so I'm just going to come out and say it…"

She was speaking rapidly, her face and movements flustered and nervous. Max looked up from her food with confusion etched on her face, and watched her try to find the words she wanted to say.

"Look, I know…" she began, stumbling over her uncertainty. "No… I just… _urgh_ … Max are you okay?" Before Max could respond, she continued.

"It's just, I know that I'm not. I loved Nathan like a brother, and even though I knew he had… issues… I never _, ever_ expected him to kill someone! Let alone TWO people! And to be helping that fucking ASSHOLE Jefferson?! I looked up to him like some kind of fucking photography demi-god, and it turns out he's a complete psychopath!"

Her hesitation was gone now, replaced by anger as she vented her pent-up frustrations to the girl she had been nothing but nasty to.

Max still said nothing, but Victoria wasn't done yet. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to blow up like that. It's just hard." She let out an anguished sigh, some of her nervousness returning as she looked down at her hands.

"I just… I've seen you walking around like a zombie the last few days, and it made me realise… as fucked up as everything that happened has got _me,_ I can't imagine how you must feel. You actually lost someone! And I just… I wanted to check that you were doing alright. Or as alright as anyone could be after going through something like that."

Her eyes had begun to glisten with tears now, and she was looking at Max with something akin to pleading across her face.

"I feel so… fucking… _guilty_ for how I treated Kate. I had no idea what was actually going on but that's no excuse. And I'm trying to work up the courage to apologise to her, but I guess I figured I could start by talking to you first. You look like you could use someone to talk to. And I was a bitch to you to, and you never stooped to my level, even when you could have."

She was remembering the paint incident now, not knowing that Max had originally been just as nasty, before realising that she was better than that and rewinding.

"I guess I just… felt like I should reach out. Maybe we're going through some similar shit, we both idolised Jefferson after all, and we could help each other through it."

Max watched her for a moment before finally replying. "Thanks Victoria. It's nice to know that you do actually care. I do appreciate it, really. But I'm fine. I was upset, and angry, but now I'm…" she hesitated, unsure as to how open she wanted to be. "…now I'm not. I just need a bit of space to get used to things going back to 'normal'."

"I… okay Max. I just wanted… I wanted you to know that despite how I treated you, if you need someone to talk to about any of this whole fucked up situation then I'm… here for you?"

"Thanks Victoria. I'll keep that in mind. You should definitely talk to Kate though, I think she'd be more able to help you than I would. She's… good. Just… as a person, she's good."

"Yeah… I know. I'm trying. It's just… hard." She looked at Max for another moment, before standing up to leave. "I guess I'll see you around Max. Don't uh… don't be a stranger." She smiled, possibly the first time Max had ever seen her do so, before walking away to join her friends.

Max went back to pushing her food around for a few minutes, before she too got up and left the cafeteria. Her feet took her down the hall and out through the main doors. She heard someone call out to her as she crossed the lawn, probably Warren, or maybe Kate, but she didn't slow down. Behind her, the bell rang to signal the end of lunch, but Max had another empty period instead of Photography.

She walked past the bus stop but didn't get on, continuing down the street past the football stadium. Around the corner, and down the hill, her feet moved her forwards at a steady pace.

Her mind was blank to begin with, as it had been for days. But slowly, the voice in her head that vocalised her thoughts returned, chanting a mantra as she walked.

 _I need to find Chloe… I need to find Chloe… I need to find Chloe…_

She was still heading downhill, the town drawing nearer at a steady rate, but she was not walking with purpose, she was simply walking. There was no destination, there was no conscious decision to walk, her body was simply on autopilot.

 _Find Chloe... find Chloe… find Chloe…_

She moved through the centre of town, crossing streets, passing shops and people, never slowing down. Her eyes were fixed straight ahead, focussed on nothing, not even the Two Whales diner drawing closer as she walked.

 _I need to be with Chloe… I need to be with Chloe… I need to be with Chloe…_

She was almost at the main road that ran through the town now. The ocean was ahead of her, sparkling in the brisk fall sunlight, and further down to her left lay the diner. As she reached the road, her feet finally came to a halt, and she stood on the sidewalk staring out at the sea. Her internal mantra stopped, one last line running through her head before she stepped out into the road.

 _I just want to see her again…_

Screaming tyres and the blast of a horn so loud it shook her down to her bones suddenly snapped her out of her trance, she glanced up just in time to see the rapidly approaching grille of the semi, grey smoke billowing out around the wheels. Max closed her eyes.

But nothing happened. She opened them and saw the semi, racing backwards away from her as the smoke streamed back into the tyres.

 _Oh God… no… no you've got to be fucking kidding me!_

The truck was now far down the street, moving towards her again but with ample time to stop before reaching the clearly visible girl standing in the middle of the road.

 _I thought it was gone! It should be GONE! WHY IS THIS STILL HAPPENING?!_

She moved, making it to the other side of the road where she fell to her knees as the panic took over. Her chest was heaving as she struggled to take in oxygen through the iron chains that were crushing her ribs. Her vision faded out into pure white, her ears roared louder than the waves crashing on the beach.

 _This can't be happening! It's supposed to be gone… supposed to be gone…_


	6. Be Part of the World Around You

_She was back in the bathroom, the tiles bright in the harsh light, the graffiti boldly standing out against the blue. She could hear one of the taps dripping to her left as she walked towards the door. She looked down at the gun in her hand, and then back up at Chloe._

 _She was backed up against the wall beside the door. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with terror, her breathing was heavy._

 _"Max, what are you doing?! Stop! Please! Please don't kill me Max… I'm sorry! Just please don't kill me…"_

 _She was close enough now that she could see her face reflected in Chloe's eyes. Her expression was cold and emotionless._

 _"But you asked me to Chloe… You said it was the right thing to do."_

 _"No… please… I don't want to die Max! I… I love you!"_

 _She felt her finger squeeze against the trigger, and everything went black._

"FUCK!"

Max's entire body was drenched in sweat and her pulse was racing a mile a minute as she sat bolt upright in the bed, the covers flinging off as she did so.

 _What the fuck was that? What kind of fucked up fucking nightmare was THAT?!_

Her heart was still pounding in her chest as she leapt out of bed. Her whole body was shaking, and panic clouded her senses.

 _Oh God… that was so fucked up. Why the fuck did I dream that…_

She looked frantically around her dorm room, desperately searching for something to distract her.

 _The look on her face... she was so scared… FUCK! I need to get that image out of my head. I need to see her smiling…_

She spun around again, her eyes darting all over, before she remembered the photo she had brought with her from Chloe's room, the blue-haired girl laughing in the forest.

Max stumbled to her desk, hurling papers and books everywhere as she searched, finally finding the photo under her math book. She snatched it up and moved to her bed, sitting down heavily on the edge as she stared down at the photo in her hands.

Her breathing slowed, and her heart rate dropped, as the panic was pushed out by Chloe's smile. Max breathed a sigh of relief.

 _That was so messed up, I can't believe I'd dream something like that. I'm so glad I brought this photo with me. Guess it's good for more than just motivating me to get up and go to class._

Finally feeling somewhat normal, Max looked up from the picture in her hands, glancing at the window to try and figure out what time it was.

 _Sun's up, so at least it's not the middle of the night. I don't think I'd be able to get back to sleep after that. Hopefully it's still morning, not afternoon._

She looked back down at Chloe again, admiring the image. It was one of her favourites, proof that Chloe was still capable of happiness after everything she'd been put through. Max had brought it to her dorm room when she'd moved back here after classes started again. She'd hoped it would help keep the emptiness at bay, and while that had ultimately proved to be a false hope, she still found a small amount of comfort whenever she looked at it.

But now something was wrong. As she stared at the photo in her hands it began to blur and flicker. In the back of her mind she could hear laughter, and the rustling of branches in the wind.

 _…the fuck? Wait, is this-_

Before she could finish her thought, the world around her faded to white. Suddenly she was surrounded by forest, sunlight streaming down in sharp beams through the leaves above.

"Gimme that camera you bitch! How dare you photograph me without my permission!"

Chloe's voice pierced through Max's heart like an arrow. She spun around on the spot, and there she was; trying to wrestle a camera from Rachel's grasp.

 _Oh my God… Chloe…? Chloe!_

She let out a shriek of joy as she threw herself towards the two girls as they stumbled around, still fighting over the camera. Just before she collided with them, Max froze, realising that neither of the girls had reacted to her presence or her shout.

 _Wait, what the fuck is going on? How am I even here, I wasn't in that photo! Can I seriously travel back to events I wasn't there for?_

A million possibilities exploded into her head. She could warn JFK! She could kill Hitler! She could… wipe out the entire planet with a super-tornado the size of Canada…

 _Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Wait… FUCK! What have I done?! I'm fucking with time again, after I fixed everything!_

She braced for the panic to hit her, but it never came. There was something else bothering her. Chloe, emerging victorious from her struggle and waving the camera above her head, still hadn't noticed Max.

"I can't believe you did that! I should open the back of this camera right now and erase that photo from existence with the power of sunlight."

"Don't you fucking dare Chloe, that was an awesome shot! You were… happy for once! Just let me have it, please?"

Chloe deflated a little, her smile fading slightly. "Fine, fine, I won't ruin it…"

Max watched all of this, feeling both exhilarated by the sight of Chloe before her, and confused as she waited to be acknowledged.

"I'd forgotten what it felt like to be happy…" Chloe muttered, moving to Rachel's side and handing back the camera, before the two girls started to walk off through the undergrowth.

"God, you're such a fucking emo!" Rachel teased with a smirk.

"Fuck you dude! I ain't no emo!"

Max decided to take matters into her own hands, racing up behind Chloe as she walked away, and throwing her arms around her.

But they passed straight through, as if she wasn't even there.

 _What. The. Fuck._

Max began to experiment. She waved her arms in front of Chloe's face, she screamed in Rachel's ear. She tried to grab a stick off the ground, intending to hit Chloe in the head with it, but her hands went straight through that as well.

 _Fuuuuuuuuck… This some Harry Potter shit right here. Can I seriously turn photos into pensieves?_

Max stopped moving, watching Chloe and Rachel as they walked away. Everything started to fade again, turning to white, and next thing she knew she was back in her room, sitting on her bed as she held the photo in her lap.

 _That was so crazy! How did I even do that? And… I didn't change anything. I_ couldn't _change anything! So… no tornado right?_

Her eyes widened as the realisation hit her.

 _I need more photos!_

* * *

Neither Joyce nor David were home as Max let herself in with the key they had given her when she started staying with them. She raced straight up the stairs to Chloe's room, and immediately began tearing it apart in her search for the small box of photos she had found earlier.

 _I can finally see what I missed. I can see what she was like after I abandoned her._

She found the box on the desk, tearing the lid off as she sat down on the floor. She pulled out the first photo she found, not caring what is was as long as Chloe was in it. Looking down she found Joyce and David standing together, Chloe in the background, arms crossed and scowling.

 _I wonder why she kept this one. She clearly wasn't happy about being in it._

"Well, I'm about to find out how she really felt…" Max focussed on the photo in her hands, until the room faded into the memory.

"There, you got your stupid photo. Now can I _please_ go back inside?"

They were standing on the lawn in front of Chloe's house, David and Joyce together, Chloe just behind them already turning towards the door. Max watched as David scowled and Joyce let out a frustrated sigh.

"For Christ's sake Chloe, is it too much to ask to just get one nice family photo?" Chloe stopped, turning back towards Joyce.

"No. But it _is_ too much to ask to include _him_ in it!"

David looked like he was about to say something, his hands clenched into fists at his side, but Joyce cut him off.

"For crying out loud, we've been married for over three years now. David is part of the family whether you like it or not. I wish you'd just grow up already."

Chloe was furious now, her shoulders hunched, and her voice cracking in anger as she glared at her mother.

"Well _I_ wish that people would stop _abandoning_ me! But we don't always get what we want do we?!"

Joyce softened, sadness replacing frustration on her face as she let out a small sigh. She turned to David, placing a hand on his shoulder as she spoke to him.

"Why don't you go on inside hun, I'll be there in a minute." He smiled, briefly at her, nodding his head before turning from her. He paused as he passed Chloe, turning to look at her with what may have been sympathy, but Chloe ignored him and he continued on into the house.

Joyce approached her daughter cautiously, as if expecting her to lash out at any second, but she remained quiet, staring down at her feet as her mother wrapped her in a hug.

"Sweetie, I know you're worried about Rachel but it's only been a few days, and she's done this before remember? That girl is a free spirit, just let her have some space and she'll come back when she's ready."

She let her arms drop, stepping back to look at her daughter. "But please don't take it out on David. I've accepted that you aren't ever going to like him, but he's not responsible for whatever is going on between you and your friend. Just… cut him a little slack. For my sake?"

Chloe huffed out a breath, waving her arms a little in exasperation. Her eyes were watery as she finally looked up at Joyce.

"It's… it's not that. Do you know what day it is mom?"

"I… no I can't say that I do. Tuesday?" She asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

Chloe dropped her gaze again, her voice quiet and strained with emotion when she finally spoke up again, after a few moments of silence.

"It… It's the day Max left…"

Max's veins turned to ice, and her stomach dropped as Chloe's words pierced her heart.

"Oh sweetheart…" Joyce said as she swept her into another hug, and Chloe finally released the tears she'd been holding in. "I'm sorry Chloe, I know how much you miss her."

"Five years mom." Chloe choked out between sobs. "It's been five years! Why did she never say anything?"

Joyce rubbed Chloe's back as she cried into her shoulder, while Max, standing a few feet away, felt her own tears flowing down her cheeks.

 _Even after all these years, she's still so upset… All of it was my fault. All the anger and bitterness inside Chloe, it was all because of me._

Joyce was speaking again, her voice quiet and reassuring. "I don't know Chloe… I really don't know. Maybe she didn't know what to say? I'm sure leaving was just as hard for her, she might have been scared. And then suddenly so much time has passed she doesn't even know if she _can_ say anything anymore. But I'm sure she misses you too sweetie. I _know_ she does."

Chloe's voice was muffled, her shoulders shaking harder than ever now. "It's my fault isn't it? I was so mad when she told me… I didn't even say goodbye. _Why_ didn't I say goodbye mom?! Why…?"

Joyce said nothing, she just ran her hands up and down her daughters back as the broken-hearted girl wept into her shoulder.

The scene faded, and Max found herself back in the bedroom, blinking in the light. She didn't even pause to process what she'd seen, or wipe the tears from her eyes, she just dived straight back into the collection of photos and pulled out another one.

Chloe appeared to be sitting at her desk, and she stared sadly down at the camera. Max focussed on her eyes as she fell into the memory.

She arrived just as the flash went off. Chloe was indeed sitting at her desk, her room looking almost exactly as it had in the time Max had just left.

"For posterity…" Chloe whispered as she set the camera down, and Max's heart clenched at the use of her own phrase. The blue-haired girl pulled her phone out of her pocket, activating the screen but finding nothing but the clock. She chucked it onto the desk next to her open laptop as she leant back in the chair.

Max guessed it was late afternoon. The flag hanging over the window was still lit from behind with sunlight, but it was less intense than usual, the sun having passed over the house. It fluttered in the breeze, as it always did, and the familiarity of the whole scene struck Max.

This memory, unlike the others she had been in, was barely distinguishable from the present that she had just left. It brought out in Max an even deeper yearning to reach out and touch her friend as she stared blankly at her computer.

She finally tore her eyes from Chloe's face and followed her gaze, discovering with a heart-wrenching shock that she was staring at _her_ Facebook profile. The mouse cursor hovered over the 'request friend' button, but Chloe never clicked it. She just reached forward occasionally to tap the space bar whenever her screensaver activated.

After a while she reached for her phone, disappointment falling over her face when she once again found nothing but the clock.

"Happy fuckin' birthday to me." She muttered, as she returned to her staring. Max watched in silent agony, wishing more than anything that she could physically affect these memories like she could her own. All she wanted to do was reach out and click that button.

Suddenly, Chloe's phone rang, her eyes lighting up in excitement, but it quickly faded as she read the caller ID.

"Hey Rach… Thanks… Yeah it's been okay, just been chillin'… Sure, I'm keen to hang…"

The room faded out, and then back in, this time without Chloe. Max stared down through bleary eyes at the photos in her hands, sadness and frustration whirling inside her. She picked up the last one, and for the first time apprehension flooded through her.

She was desperate to know more, but terrified of what she'd see. These memories were brutal, each one tearing more pieces from Max's heart and driving more nails of guilt into her soul, but she could not stop now. She stared down at Chloe and Rachel, the latter smiling ever so slightly, the former extending a middle finger to the camera, and soon found herself in the hideout at the Junkyard.

"Man why you gotta be such a brat? Can't we ever just take a nice photo?" She was smiling as she said it, taking the sting out of her words.

"Whatever dude, that _was_ a nice photo. Authentic! You wouldn't want me to pretend to be somebody else just for a damn photo would you?" She smirked at the blonde as she leant back against the wall.

Max grinned at the typical Chloe response, moving closer and sitting herself down on the floor near the girls to watch them.

"I guess not." Rachel chuckled, as she too leant back. "So what's the plan for today?"

"Figured we'd just hang out here. It's step-douche's day off so we can't go back to my place." Chloe scowled slightly as she said it, and Rachel snickered at the nickname.

 _Okay… this is nice, the two of them just hanging out. No tears for once_.

"Well you know I'm down to hang here, but what are we gonna dooooo?" She whined, digging her elbow into Chloe's side, drawing an annoyed grunt from the blue-haired girl.

"Fuck man, I dunno. Can't we just chill and make it up as we go along? I don't hear you throwing any suggestions out!"

We _are_ chillin', but like, are we just gonna sit on the floor staring at the wall all day? Make us a plan bruh, it's your turn!"

Chloe let out an exasperated sign as she glared at Rachel. "Urgh! You sound just like Max, she always had to have to whole day planned out."

Max's heart leapt at the mention of her name, and she leaned forward in excitement, waiting to see if Chloe would keep talking about her.

 _Heh, I did like to have every minute of our days planned out. But I wanted to get the most out of our time! Funny how much things have changed._

"Sounds like my kinda gal. Maybe I should be hanging out with her instead, huh?" Chloe snorted in response. "Yeah good luck with that. You gonna trek all the way up to Seattle?"

Rachel's face lit up suddenly as she grabbed Chloe's arm with both her hands, staring excitedly at her face. "Dude _yes_! Let's do that! We've got your truck, it's only like four hours drive! We can go up the coast, it'll be so pretty!"

Chloe's face was a mixture of confusion and horror. "Dude, what? We're not driving all the way to fucking Seattle, that's crazy."

"Aww come ooooon! It'd be so fun! We're always talking about escaping Arcadia down to LA one day, let's do a practice run!"

"Dude, what the _fuck_ are you talking about?" She stood up and started pacing, her body tense and her voice exasperated. "It's a four-hour drive, which means a four-hour drive _back!_ You're fucking crazy. What are we gonna do, sleep in the truck?"

"Yes! Or we can stay with your buddy Max! We'll come back on Monday, I don't mind cutting class, then we get the whole of Sunday to fuckin' explore and shit."

Max couldn't help but feel excited as she watched them talk, even though she knew they had never shown up in Seattle.

 _That would have been so fucking cool!_

Chloe was quiet for a moment, still pacing back and forth in front of Rachel as she sat on the floor, excitement plastered over the blonde girls face.

"No." She finally stopped pacing, turning to look at Rachel. "I'm not trekking all the way to fucking _Seattle_ to visit someone who can't even fucking text me."

The happiness slid off Max's face, and her body went cold and rigid.

 _No… no what? This is meant to be a happy memory. I need a happy memory!_

"Oh for fucks sake man, how long are you gonna hold that grudge? It's not like _you've_ made any effort either!"

"Max has made it preeetty clear she doesn't want to hear from me. Total lack of contact for _years_. I can take a hint, okay?"

Rachel let out a frustrated sigh, pointing at the punk as she said "Dude, you fuckin' yelled at her for something she had no say in. I'd say _you're_ the one who made things pretty clear. So come on, let's go on an epic road trip and build a bridge! Instead of just sitting around burning them like we always do."

Chloe slumped down next to her again, her head bowed, but didn't say anything. Rachel gave her a moment, but when she still didn't say anything she prodded her in the ribs, looking for a response.

"Hey. Come on man, say something. It's a solid plan, right?"

A small sob forced its way out of Chloe's mouth, and Rachel finally noticed the tears dripping from her chin.

"Whoa, dude are you _crying_?! I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push. I know it's difficult, losing touch with someone you were so close to." She draped an arm over the crying girls shoulder, pulling her towards her. "It's just… you talk about her so often, and I _know_ you miss her. I can see it eating away at you that you guys don't talk anymore so I just thought, I dunno, maybe the ball should be in your court?"

Chloe sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleave, then taking a deep breath. She began to speak, her voice quickly breaking with emotion.

"It… it just hurts so much… I know I was angry at her. I… I know I didn't say goodbye. I wouldn't even _look_ at her. I'm such an idiot… But dude I was fucked up! My dad had just died and now my best friend was leaving me? How was I supposed to react? I didn't mean it! I didn't mean any of it…"

She slumped sideways, laying her head in Rachel's lap, finally giving up on trying to hold in her sadness and letting herself cry freely as the blonde girl stroked her hair.

"Surely she understood that… she had to understand that I didn't mean it, I was a mess! How could she just disappear like that? How could she leave me when I needed her most?"

Max had never seen Chloe this upset, not even the day they had found Rachel. She could barely speak through her crying, and her legs were tucked tightly into her chest. She looked so tiny and broken.

Rachel said nothing. She just stroked her friend's hair with one hand, and rubbed her back with the other, knowing that Chloe didn't need words of comfort or support, just time to finally set free her long-bottled feelings.

A few moments later, the world faded to white and Max was back in the bedroom.

She took in a few deep, shuddering breaths, and wiped her eyes. Her mind was blank, her emotions too chaotic to allow thoughts to form. She looked down at the photos in her hand, shuffling them so that the photo of Chloe with Joyce and David was back on top.

She wiped her eyes again to clear her vision, then focussed on the photo once more as everything went white.


	7. Crosses

Max was absolutely exhausted as she walked through town to the bus stop near the diner. It was mid afternoon now, the sun moving steadily towards the horizon as she strolled through the streets.

Both her mind and her body were numb, having spent most of the day reliving some of Chloe's worst moments, and not being able to do anything to comfort the girl.

She wasn't sure why she'd kept going back, but she couldn't stop herself. Every photo was torture, the reality of how her years of silence had truly affected her friend finally laid bare. Max had wanted nothing more than to see what she had done to Chloe, but now that she had she felt strange.

Something was building inside her; a pressure that had been growing for weeks now, maybe even years, and Max wasn't sure how much longer it would stay contained. She was confused even, wondering why it hadn't erupted already.

She had cried countless times over the last few weeks, broken down again and again under the weight of everything that had happened, and everything that she'd done, but none of it had offered any release. The unidentifiable feeling just kept growing and growing. With every new fact she learned about Chloe, with every revelation she had about her own feelings, it swelled, filling every available space in her body.

A voice calling out to her suddenly pulled her from her catatonic walking, her feet grinding to a halt. She took a moment to look around, trying to figure out where she was, before she looked down the alley next to the Two Whales diner to find the homeless woman to be the source of the voice.

Curious, Max turned and began to move down the alley, cautiously waving her hand in response to the woman's own wave of greeting. She smiled sadly at Max as she reached her, huddled against the dumpster as she always was.

"Now there's a tortured soul if ever I saw one."

Max tried to smile in response, but found her lips uncooperative. Instead, she dropped her eyes to the floor, unable to meet the homeless woman's' eyes. They were dark and deep, and Max felt uncomfortably exposed under their gaze.

"Do you want to talk about it sweetheart? Or would you prefer to just have some company?" Max said nothing in response, but surprised herself by slowly sitting herself down in front of the woman, her legs crossing underneath her as she lowered herself to the ground.

"Just company then. Do you mind if I smoke?"

Max shook her head, and the woman relit a half-smoked cigarette that had been tucked behind her ear. Her voice was rough, and gravelly, as it had been the first time Max had met her, and she wondered briefly if that had still happened in this timeline, but she did not ask.

"Forgive me for pryin' child, I'll happily shut my mouth if you'd prefer, but I thought that since you don't want to do the talkin' maybe I'd do it, and you can just listen. What do you reckon?"

Max looked up curiously, finally meeting her gaze, and finding it kinder than she expected, though her eyes were still unfathomably deep. They looked like the eyes of someone who had seen countless lifetimes flow past, and there was a sense of wisdom and understanding in them that she could not explain. She nodded gently, before looking back down at the ground beneath her. The homeless women smiled before speaking again.

"I've seen a lot of people come and go from my spot here in the alley. Some of them stop to talk to me, some give me food or spare change. Some of them smile awkwardly at me when I catch them looking, and others pretend not to see me at all. Or maybe they really don't see me, who knows? But I see them all, and I see the burdens they carry with them too."

She paused to take a drag from her cigarette, and shifted herself to a more comfortable position against the dumpster. Some of the smoke drifted towards Max, but rather than finding it unpleasant or off-putting she found it strangely comforting. It reminded her of Chloe, and the cloud of smoke that she frequently carried with her.

"Your burden is one of the heaviest I've ever seen. And I can tell by the way you hunch your shoulders that what you're carryin' around on them is guilt. And child, that is a heck of a lot of guilt for someone so young to be carryin'."

Max looked up again, her expression a mask of confusion. She opened her mouth to speak, but the homeless woman cut her off.

"Don't ask me how I know, when you see as many people as I do you learn to spot what's weighing 'em down." She took another drag from her cigarette, before stubbing it out on the ground next to her and tucking the little that remained back behind her ear. Max closed her mouth and remained silent, but kept her gaze up, watching the woman before her, curious as to where this conversation was going.

"Now, I'm no expert to be sure. I'm not a psychologist, I'm a lady livin' next to a bin. But even I can tell you that you cannot carry a weight like that around forever. Eventually, you're gonna have to let it go, else it'll crush you into dust."

"It's not that easy." Max said, finally speaking up after waiting a few moments to see if she would say anything else. "It's the only thing I can still feel. Without it I'm just… empty."

"Sweetheart, you can't feel anything 'cept guilt because you've let it grow so big it's gone and pushed everything else _out_. That's no way to live… If you wanna feel _everything_ again and not just one thing, then you've gotta make some space. You've gotta let go of some of that guilt and learn to forgive yourself."

"But I _earned_ it." Max responded, her voice rising as she tried to make the woman understand. "I did so… so many terrible things. I hurt someone I cared about, over and over again. For _years_! I'm _supposed_ to feel guilty, I don't _deserve_ forgiveness."

The homeless woman let out a deep sigh, sadness painted over her face as she looked across at Max, who dropped her eyes to the ground once more.

"And who does that guilt help, huh child? Does it undo those terrible things you've done? Does it make the person you've hurt feel better? Of course not. All it does is weigh you down and stop you gettin' on with your life."

She leaned forward, and placed a hand on Max's knee. The girl didn't look up, but wiped a hand under her eyes, drying the tears that had begun to form.

"Now you can torture yourself all day every day for the rest of your life, but it ain't ever gonna change anything that's happened. And tell me, is it what this person you cared about would want?"

"I…" Max tried to reply but her voice broke, the words disappearing from her mouth before she could speak them. She drew in a deep, shaky breath, but still could not bring herself to speak.

"This thing is just gonna keep on building and building child, and if you don't find a way to release it, it's gonna explode eventually, and take you with it."

Max's breath caught as she heard the eerily accurate description of what she was feeling. That overwhelming, ever expanding pressure inside of her that just didn't want to break. She looked up at the woman, her eyes blotchy and red, still wet from her tears.

"I'll leave it at that for now. I know this is difficult for you, child. I'm not your mamma so I can't tell you what to do, but I do hope you'll keep what I said in mind."

She nodded softly, before speaking. "I will. And… thanks. For caring."

"It's what I do sweetheart. And I'm always here if you ever wanna talk about it."

She smiled warmly at Max, finally taking her hand from her knee and leaning back against the dumpster. In the distance, Max could hear the swell of voices over the traffic, and she turned to look in the direction it was coming from, wondering what was happening.

"Ah, that must be the protest." The woman said, before Max could ask.

"Protest?"

"Them Pan Estates that Prescott Sr. has going on. They're due to start construction soon, and the townsfolk aren't happy, what with everythin' that happened with his son. People think he shoulda been held more responsible."

Max scowled, anger bubbling up inside her at the mention of the Prescotts. "Damn right he should be. I can't believe he's allowed to just go on as if nothing happened. It's fucking _bullshit_!"

"The Prescotts have always been bad for Arcadia Bay," said the homeless woman, a small scowl forming on her own face as she spoke. "ever since they arrived here. The anger has been growing for generations, and pretty soon the damn is gonna burst and the whole town'll be swept away."

A cold shiver travelled down Max's spine as the image of the tornado tearing apart the town flashed through her mind. She took a deep breath to calm herself, before getting to her feet.

"I should probably get going now. But thank you again for talking to me. I don't… I don't know if I can do it. I'm not… ready yet. But it's something to think about at least."

"It might be that you won't ever be _ready_ , all you can do is try. But you're welcome sweetheart. And you know always know where to find me."

She smiled again, and Max smiled back before turning to leave.

"Before you go, can I ask your name, child?"

"My name is Max." She replied, looking back over her shoulder.

"It was lovely to meet you Max. I hope we can speak again sometime."

 _I guess that answers my earlier question._

She smiled again, and nodded, then walked out of the alley and down the street to the bus stop that would take her back to school.

* * *

Max replayed the conversation in her head for the whole bus ride back to campus, and was still thinking about it as she walked across the main lawn towards the dormitories.

 _She has a point I guess. But… how do I forgive myself after everything I did to Chloe? After seeing exactly how it affected her? It's just… not something I can do. Or even want._

She pushed those thoughts, and the conversation, from her mind as she descended the stairs between the lawn and the dorms. She was absolutely exhausted, the events of the day finally catching up to her. She couldn't believe only this morning she'd woken from the nightmare, it felt like days ago. Between that, and the time jumps, and the homeless lady, Max was ready to just pass out for the rest of the day.

But before she had even reached the dormitories she hit another obstacle in the way of her slumber. As she walked along the path to the entrance of the building, a voice called out her name from across the courtyard. Turning to look, she saw Kate waving at her from the bench at the far end.

 _Oh shoot, I forgot about Kate. Again. And she knows I've seen her now so I can't just pretend I didn't hear her._

She thought about just waving back and then going inside, but she knew Kate would just follow. So instead, she turned from the dormitories and made her way slowly over to the bench.

"Hi Kate."

"Max, you look terrible! Sorry… that came out rude. I just… are you okay?" She stood as she spoke, her brow knitted with concern, her hand reaching out to touch Max's shoulder.

"I'm fine Kate, it's just… been a long day. And I didn't sleep well." She forced out a small smile, attempting to alleviate some of the blonde girls' concern. "I was actually just heading up to try and get a bit more sleep, maybe we can catch up tomorrow?"

Kate dropped her arm, her expression melting from concern to frustration as she sighed.

"I wish you wouldn't avoid me. And Warren. We're your friends, Max, and we're here for you. And… we need you to be here for us too."

There it was; another layer of guilt for the ever increasing mountain, but Max didn't want this one. Her guilt was for Chloe, she didn't need any more. She just needed to sleep.

"I know. I… I'm sorry Kate. But I can barely get myself out of bed, I just… don't know if I can handle anything else just yet. I still need some space." She was being selfish, and she knew it. She'd probably punish herself for this later, if she ever took a break from punishing herself over everything else, but how could she be expected to help someone else when she was already drowning under the weight of her own problems?

Kate was agitated now, her voice rising in anger and frustration. "I was _drugged!_ And I was bullied, _mercilessly_ , for weeks because of it. I was kidnapped and _photographed_ , by a student who turned out to be a murderer, and a teacher who turned out to be a psychopath!"

Ice ran through Max's veins, her mind flicking to the memories of her own experience in the Dark Room.

"Max I know you're hurting. I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through, losing someone you were close to… But I need you! I need my friend right now, because I'm struggling too! You don't understand how it feels…"

 _Oh Kate, if only you knew. If only I could tell you._

"… but that's okay! I don't need you to understand, I just need you to be here for me, like I know you need someone to be there for you too. Can you please just… be with me?"

 _God, what am I doing? I_ know _how bad Kate got, I followed her onto a damn rooftop! I did everything I possibly could to help her, to save her. I even stopped time for her! And now I can't even take a moment to talk to her? What is wrong with you, Max? Stop being such a shitty friend. Again. Don't let Kate become another Chloe…_

"Kate…" her voice breaking with emotion. "I… I'm sorry!" She lurched forward, wrapping her friend in a hug as they both let loose the tears that had been building in their eyes. "I'm so sorry I haven't been there for you. I've been so wrapped up in my own pain. I'm so selfish. Please forgive me?"

Kate pulled back from the hug, looking up at Max through her tear-filled eyes. "Max it's okay. I know you have your own things to deal with, I don't expect you to just… drop everything for me. I don't even necessarily want to talk about things, I've been going to a counsellor for that. I just… I need the company of a friend. And I'm sure you do too."

She sat back down on the bench, and motioned for Max to join her. Around the courtyard, several other students were scattered, enjoying the late afternoon sunshine.

"And if you do want to talk about anything then of course I'm here for you," Kate spoke up again. "I don't want to force you though, and I just wanted someone around for emotional support." She turned to look at Max, smiling sadly.

"I know Kate. And I'm sorry that I haven't been here for you. I'll do better from now on, I promise." She lifted her arm and draped it over the other girl's shoulder, pulling her close against her. "As for talking, I… I don't really know what there is to say. I'm just… struggling to adjust, you know? To life without _her_."

Kate nodded her head in understanding, and they both sat silently for a few moments, watching the other people gathered outside. Across the yard, Trevor and Justin were taking turns trying to grind one of the benches. Samuel was raking leaves outside the storeroom again, a couple of squirrels gathered around him waiting to see if he had any food. Dana was sitting on the steps in front of the dorm, lost in the depths of her phone.

"Can you… tell me about her?" Kate asked, her voice quiet and nervous. "I mean, only if you want to! It's just, you never spoke about her before. And I'd seen her around school a couple of times, putting those missing person posters up."

Max let out a long sigh, but found herself strangely open to the idea of talking about Chloe. She had expected to lock back up, and look for an excuse to leave, but instead she began to speak.

"We grew up together. She was my best friend, back when I first lived in Arcadia Bay, but five years ago I had to move to Seattle with my parents. I hadn't seen her since."

"Wow, that must have been tough, moving away from her. You never came back to visit? Like, during the holidays or anything?"

Sadness was beginning to well up inside Max's chest again, and she did her best to contain it. It seemed like no matter what she did, or where she went she, couldn't escape her guilt. Kate had dragged it back to the surface, but she couldn't bring herself to be angry at her. She didn't know, after all.

"No, I never visited. I… I didn't even stay in touch. No phone calls, no texts, no letters or postcards. I just, left her. Completely."

"That doesn't sound like you, why didn't you ever contact her?" She cut herself off, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry, this is all very personal, I shouldn't be prying."

"It's okay, Kate. I know you're not being nosy. I'm not sure why I never said anything. I…" she hesitated, not wanting to share all the revelations she had had over the last few weeks about her feelings for Chloe, and her reasons for staying silent.

"… it's something I've been trying to figure out since she died. I never stopped thinking about her, and I missed her. I even wrote messages to her occasionally, I just never sent them."

She paused, wiping her eyes and sniffling as she tried to get her emotions back under control.

"When I had to leave, it had only been a month since her dad died. She… she was still having a hard time, and my parents having to move to Seattle came out of nowhere. When I told her it was just… the final straw I guess. She took it really badly, said I was abandoning her when she needed me most. She wasn't wrong though."

Kate raised a hand to rub Max's back, her voice soothing and supportive when she spoke. "That wasn't your fault though, I'm sure you didn't want to leave. Chloe must have known that, she was just emotional. Which is totally understandable after what she went through."

Max's strength was failing, she was losing the fight against her emotions as more and more tears flowed down her face, and her breathing became harsher.

"I know. I know she didn't mean it, she just needed some time to process everything. But why didn't I contact her later? Or ever? Five years, Kate… five whole years without a word. And then I finally get her back and suddenly… suddenly she's just… gone."

"Oh God, I'm so sorry Max. I had no idea, that's just awful." Max was crying in full now, and Kate pulled her head down into her lap, still rubbing her hand up and down her back.

"How… how could she leave me like that? Is it payback for me abandoning her for all those years? Is that why she left me? I just… don't understand. I was finally breaking through! She was opening up again! Becoming the old Chloe… and now she's gone!"

"Max… I… I don't understand what you're talking about, but Chloe didn't leave you! It was Nathan that took her away! Chloe didn't have a choice, sometimes terrible things happen to good people, that's just life. But I'm sure she cared about you, no matter what happened between you two in the past."

"But she asked me… she made… _I didn't want to!_ But I had to… Oh God what have I done?! Why did she make me do that? _Chloe!_ " She was hysterical now, her entire body shaking with the force of her sobbing as every feeling she'd felt over the last few weeks crashed through her like a wrecking ball.

Kate could only watch in horror, her heart breaking as she stroked her fingers through the girl's hair in a futile attempt to comfort her. "Max I… I'm so sorry! I still don't understand what you mean but… I'm so, so sorry…"

The courtyard was busier now, with more students having finished their classes for the day. People were milling about in twos and threes, chatting about their plans for the weekend, or comparing notes from class, but Max sat alone, still on the bench she had shared with Kate.

The other girl had left, after assurances from Max that she would be fine on her own. They had sat silently for another hour or so, once she had regained her composure after her meltdown, each clasping the others hand. Max still felt bad about leaving Kate on her own for so long, but she was glad she had run into her today.

She was glad too that she had shared some of what she was going through, even if it had left poor Kate as confused as ever. Somehow, finally talking to someone about how she was feeling had managed to relieve a little of the pressure that had been building inside of her.

 _Perhaps there is a way forward after all._

She sat for a few more moments, before standing, and brushing the backs of her legs. She was hungry, and if possible, even more exhausted than she had been when she first got back to campus. It was still early, but her bed was calling out to her as she walked towards the entrance to the dorms.

Something cold touched the back of Max's neck, causing her to jump. She spun around, but found nothing and no one behind her. Then it happened again, this time on the back of her hand. Then her cheek. Then all over, little pinpricks of cold scattering across all the parts of her skin that weren't covered by clothes.

She gazed around, horror spreading across her face as she took in the sight of the snow gently drifting down from the still sun-drenched, cloudless sky.

 _No… NO! How can this be happening?! I… I didn't change anything! I_ couldn't _change anything… I just went back and watched!_

She was panicking now, her head spinning left and right as she watched the countless white flecks as they spiralled lazily towards the ground.

 _This can't be real… I have to be dreaming…_

She collapsed to the ground as fear took over her mind, the roar of the storm charging through her head.

 _Unless… is this because I rewound when the truck almost hit me? Did I create another Tornado by saving myself?_

She was crying now, paying no attention to the other students in the courtyard, gleefully running through the snow or marvelling to each other at it's strangeness.

 _But how can I possibly fix it? I don't have a photo from that day to travel back through! I don't have_ any _photos! I haven't taken a single one since the day in the bathroom, and that one's gone!_

Her throat was raw from the gasping breaths of air she was taking, as her chest constricted tightly.

 _But it doesn't make any sense, I only changed one thing! The last tornado happened because I KEPT messing with reality. I rewound countless times, for days and days!_

That was then that she saw it. Out the corner of her eye, the last thing in the world that she wanted to see, it's blue wings fluttering through the snowflakes still falling from the golden sky.

 _Oh you have got to be FUCKING kidding me… NO!... NOT YOU AGAIN!_

She stood, anger erupting through her body, burning through her veins like fire as she followed the butterfly across the grass of the courtyard.

 _I'm going to crush that little fucker into blue paste! What the FUCK is it doing here?!_

By the time she caught up to it, it was flying circles at chest height around the Tobanga. She paused, her anger dissipating for a moment as she realised this was the closest she'd ever been to the mysterious totem pole that watched the students of Blackwell from its perch at the top of the hill. Then it surged back with a vengeance, and she saw only blue and red as she screamed internally.

 _WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!_

The butterfly landed on the Tobanga, slowly flapping its wings twice more, before falling still.

"You task is not yet complete, child. There is still work to be done…"

All of her rage evaporated in a second as she collapsed, breathless, to the ground, staring up at the bright blue insect with wide, watery eyes.

Somehow, the butterfly had answered her.


End file.
